I stomp past them and the wide-eyed secretary at the desk to push my way into a room through the only other door available. I ignore the decor besides the fact that it has a window, chairs, and a desk. Whirling to wait impatiently, I stand with my back against the window.
The men don't dawdle, but they're not moving fast enough to suit my panic. Thankfully, the AD doesn't make me wait long.
"Miss Jones, would you like a seat?" I shake my head no and he continues. "Braeden Bancroft was released to go home this morning. He put up a fuss about waiting on you, but as we are overtaxed at the moment, we had to insist he do his waiting at home. Agents Baelor and Lancer have been busy themselves with debriefing and routine medical tests. The same tests you just refused, and we still have your debriefing to handle."
I don't understand. Not a fucking bit of it. If the guys were obviously taken care of last night and at the butt crack of dawn, why am I still here? I voice my concerns out loud, earning surreptitious glances from them that don't include me.
"Fucking spit it out. I'm sick of this shit. I haven't done anything wrong, and you're keeping me here."
I'm apparently wearing on the AD's patience. "Miss Jones, I'm going to have to insist that you calm down."
Rex agrees with him— the dick— while Emmett looks torn and confused as well. I just want someone to explain things.
"Miss Jones, I'm going to bring in an agent to record your statement and female Special Agent Medic to catalogue any physical records."
The brand. Son of a bitch. That's what the nosey ass females wanted earlier.
I'm evidence.
The AD steps out to speak with his secretary, giving me a chance to talk to the men I'm really having some trust issues with at the moment.
"What the hell, Rex? Why am I getting the special treatment? It's as straightforward as you two and Brade. Or isn't it?"
"Lark, I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to discuss an ongoing investigation." His expression is shuttered, and I feel the last corner of my heart that held affection for him crumble with his words.
"You knew— you fucking knew this would happen, didn't you?" He doesn't answer, and Emmett looks pained. "Fuck you, both. You let this happen. This is your fault, Rex! Get. Out. I don't want to see either of you again." I'm so raw emotionally it's taking everything I have not to collapse in a blubbering heap.
"Lark, please—" Emmett beseeches me.
I turn my back on them, waiting until I hear the door open and close again. Sinking into one of the chairs, I sit until a knock precedes the door opening.
"Miss Jones, if you could come with me, please," a dark haired man close to my age with a crossbody bag on beckons from the open doorway.
I get up from the chair, moving in a fog of surreality to the reception room. To find the AD speaking in hushed tones with Emmett, and Rex leaning over the desk chatting up the secretary. Rex and the woman look up as I pass in time to catch my scathing glare.
Like his dick hasn't had enough action for a month at least.
Emmett doesn't even attempt to look at me. I put my head down and follow the agent down the hall to a conference room and settle into a chair at the table.
He introduces himself, but I'm not really paying attention. I'm just done at this point. I do vaguely hear him say he's going to record the session, and he asks me to sign paperwork to that effect. I try to decline signing anything as I'm in no condition to be doing so, but I get the spiel about being stuck here until I comply.
While I'm attempting to explain I'm not randomly signing anything, a woman comes in the room carrying a large case. She lays it out on the other end of the table and begins taking equipment out. A camera, blood draw supplies, a gown and blue chuck pads, and the list goes on. She goes to a door at the other end of the room I hadn't noticed when I came in. She comes back out and disappears into the hall.
The agent is trying to direct my attention back to the papers he wants me to sign when some intuition is telling me to go investigate what's behind that open door.
Despite the man's protests, I get up and walk over to it. It's nearly deja vu. An exam table— complete with stirrups folded in their little cubbies— sits in the middle of the room. Horror overtakes me as I retreat back into the conference room. The woman has returned, carrying another case.
Intent on her mission, she grabs a few of the supplies off the table and enters the room I can still see into. She sets the case on a counter and repeats the laying out of items onto a surgical tray. The usual things needed for a full female exam.
Fuck. This.
I grab the papers off the table and start skimming past all the legal mumbo-jumbo crap. On the second page I find what I'm looking for. Consent to a full debriefing and subsequent physical examination. I jerk my head up to glare at the agent.
"Do you know what these papers say? Of course, you do. And you're sitting here trying to badger me into signing them. Go fuck yourself.” I rip the packet into quarters despite both personnel protesting.
I dart out the door and go back to the hall I think I remember the AD's office being in. I find the plaque and storm in right past the surprised secretary and into the AD's room.
Rex and Emmett. Hadn't counted on them still being here.